


Outed

by nothingeverlost



Series: Storybrooke High [5]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-27
Updated: 2013-03-27
Packaged: 2017-12-06 16:12:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingeverlost/pseuds/nothingeverlost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You don’t have to play coy, love.  I know about you and Gold.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Outed

“I know about you.” His arms wrapped around her, ostensibly to improve her grip on the bat. She hadn’t managed to hit anything past the infield.

“I… I don’t understand.” His grip was too tight, almost suffocating. From behind her she could hear giggles and someone calling her a ‘lucky bitch’ for having Mr. Jones’ attention. Belle would gladly trade places with any of them.

“You don’t have to play coy, love. I know about you and Gold.” The pitcher tossed the ball, but Belle fumbled and didn’t swing until the pitch was over the plate.

“Mr. Gold is my Chem teacher.” She bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from panicking, or saying too much. The copper taste of blood was bitter in her mouth.

“I think we both know he’s more than that. It shows initiative, to do whatever you need to get an A. I like that in a girl.” His voice, already pitched low, became a whisper. His breath was warm against her ear, something that might have aroused if it had been Nick. She was close to vomiting. “We could work out a similar arrangement. Wouldn’t want your GPA to suffer after all the work you put into _keeping it up_ , now would we?”

The next pitch came a moment later, and Belle swung as hard as she could. The infield fly was caught by the first baseman. “I’m out,” she said shakily as she wormed out of his hold.

She’d never been so glad for a class to be over.

“I wish I was totally hopeless at sports so Mr. Jones had to give me extra tutoring,” one of the girls in the locker room said as they changed clothes.

“Hopefully after school and all alone,” her friend agreed. Belle grabbed her clothes and took them into the showers, scrubbing herself all over with soap until the bell rang and everyone left. She dressed quickly, not wanting to still be around when the next class arrived, and then, for the first time in her history at Storybrooke High Belle French ditched class. 

She only had one left, just English, but she knew that she couldn’t handle answering questions or participating in conversation, no matter how much she loved Jane Eyre. What she really wanted was to run to Nick, but he had class and she couldn’t risk anyone else learning their secret. She couldn’t have Nick get hurt by Jones’ vile insinuations. No one could do much to her, but his job and reputation were at stake.

Maybe she should leave. There was only a month of school left, and her grades were good. She could home school for the last weeks, or test out early. She’d already been accepted to Boston, they weren’t going to take that away based on her last semester’s attendance. It wasn’t like she gave a damn about prom or walking across the stage to accept her diploma. All she cared about was keeping Nick safe.

She couldn’t go to Nick, and her legs shook too much to walk home. She made it to the parking lot, sinking down on the pavement next to the wheelwell of the familiar black Cadillac. Belle’s legs were drawn up to her chest and she huddled there, not caring about her wet hair or anyone seeing her. She didn’t think about anything except the fact that everything that had been so perfect an hour ago was on the verge of collapsing.

“Belle? Sweetheart?” Nick, her Nick, pulled her out of the downward spiral of her thoughts with a touch. She almost leaned into it before she remembered where they were.

“You’re supposed to be in class.” He had the period after lunch free, not the last period of the day.

“Classes ended half an hour ago, but even if they hadn’t I wouldn’t give a damn. You’re shaking.” He tugged at her, just enough to pull her back away from the metal of the car, and draped his jacket over her shoulders. Always her white knight, though he’d laugh if she called him that and deny that there was anything of the knight about him.

“You shouldn’t. Your knee.” She rarely mentioned it, even when she ached to ask how it happened or if she could make it better. Only once had she dared to stroke the scar tissue, when his eyes had been closed, and never had she scolded about taking care of it even when she knew it ached. Now, though, she had nothing left to lose. She might have lost everything already, and worrying about him kneeling beside her seemed easier than dealing with any of that.

“You’re worrying me, love.” He touched her again, and she crumpled against him, the tears that had been frozen coming in a deluge.

“He called me that,” she whimpered as she clung to his shirt. She struggled for each breath, and held onto him as if to do otherwise would mean drowning.

“Son of a… if anyone touched you I’ll kill them.” His fingers dug into her upper arms with a force that would leave bruises. Those that didn’t know Gold well enough wouldn’t suspect the slight man who walked with a cane of having so much strength. They would grossly underestimate him. “I swear it, Belle.”

“Not… not like that.” But it felt like it, almost, the other teachers ‘offer’ making her feel as dirty as if he’d done more than wrap his arms around her. “But we need to talk. Someone knows.”

“Knows?” he asked, his grip on her only slightly relaxing.

“About us.” She didn’t dare look at him, not when she wasn’t sure what his reaction was going to be.

“Let’s get you home first. My home,” he clarified, as he helped her into his car. She felt so alone, without his touch. Maybe he understood that; once the car was started he reached out for her hand and covered it with his own. “This doesn’t change anything, Belle. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Enough that, if it was a choice between being hurt and causing him pain she’d walk away.

She was beginning to believe, though, that he wouldn’t let her go so easily.


End file.
